


Heroes of the Resistance: Garbriella Santiago - Transfer of Power

by brickhousewriter



Series: Heroes of the Resistance [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Adult Language, Canonical Character Death, Gen, Heroes of the Resistance, I write close-canon fic, This is a ship-free zone (unless you're Gipsy Danger whacking a Kaiju)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 11:58:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/991752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brickhousewriter/pseuds/brickhousewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the end of the movie, Herc says, "This is Marshall Hercules Hansen.  Stop the clock!"</p><p>This story answers the question, “When the heck did Hercules Hansen get promoted from Ranger to Marshall?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heroes of the Resistance: Garbriella Santiago - Transfer of Power

**Author's Note:**

> The characters from Pacific Rim and the “Cancelling the Apocalypse” speech are copyright Travis Beacham and Legendary Pictures. No copyright infringement intended.
> 
> This story follows the condensed timeline of the movie, where the battles with Otachi and Leatherback are almost immediately followed by the launch of Operation Pitfall.

Staff Counsel Gabriela Santiago Esq. had never been summoned to the Marshall’s office before. In fact, in her entire eight year career in the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, Santiago had never had to report to her base commander’s office even once.  So she was worried.  Why did the Marshall need a lawyer? She spent most of her time behind a desk in purchasing and logistics, negotiating contracts, reviewing international import/export and shipping regulations, and helping the Master Supply Chief avoid breaking any laws as they attempted to obtain supplies to keep the soon-to-be-shut-down Jaeger program running as long as they possibly could.  Keeping the massive Hong Kong Shatterdome supplied with food, water, clothing, medical supplies, fuel, spare parts, and munitions was a full time job for a small army of personnel, some of whom were only a step or two above scavengers.  And since the tabloid press had broken the news that the PPDC was cutting off funding for the Jaeger program, their job had gone from “hard” to “almost impossible.”  It was part of her job to make sure that supplies were obtained legally and that they maintained the goodwill of not only their suppliers, but the countries they were still charged with protecting, whether or not they were paying for that protection.

She hoped Master Chief Lebeau hadn’t done something stupid like break an international arms treaty obtaining ammunition for the Jaegers.  Some of his sources for warheads lately had seemed to be slightly less than kosher.  Gabriela  had finally decided that the only way to avoid developing an ulcer was just to take a “see no evil” approach to her job and count on the fact that the Master Chief was a good man who had had a long and distinguished military career before joining the PPDC to keep him on the right side of the law.

No, she didn’t actually think the Master Chief had broken any laws.  But it was a long walk from her small office next to the warehouse, past the last of the Jaegers in their maintenance bays on Scramble Alley, past the mess halls and enlisted barracks and down through Officer Country to the Marshall’s office.

While she walked Santiago had plenty of time to think.  And to worry.  She clutched the small leather portfolio containing the tools of her trade, a few common stock legal forms, an ink pad, two pens, and her notary seal, just a little tighter to her chest.  The other task that occasionally fell to her as a lawyer was writing out Last Wills and Testaments.  That was always a sad duty.  And it was one she’d had to perform more often than she liked.  She’d encountered plenty of ways that PPDC personnel could die in the line of duty; besides heart attacks and cancers, there were battle injuries, accidents with heavy equipment or munitions, and the occasional case of someone who failed to properly decontaminate after coming in contact with Kaiju blood and contracted Kaiju blue.  But if someone was dying, surely she’d have been told to report to Medical? And she’d been summoned to the Marshall’s office, not to Medical.  And the Marshall seemed healthy enough the last time she’d seen him.  Maybe a little tired, but they were all tired.  No, that couldn’t be it.

Maybe it was something to do with Ms. Mori, or the newly returned Ranger, Raleigh Becket?  The Shatterdome had been buzzing with gossip about the new Jaeger pilot pairing.  First it was the narrowly averted disaster of their first Drift, when Mori had reportedly chased the R.A.B.I.T., gotten lost in her childhood memories of the Kaiju Onibaba’s attack on Tokyo, and unconsciously activated _Gipsy Danger_ ’s weapons systems to defend herself.  There had been quite a bit of gossip and speculation about how much damage she could have done if she’d actually fired off _Gipsy_ ’s Plasmacaster while still inside the hanger bay of the Shatterdome.  All the old munitions techs had had to share their stories about previous weapons disasters, while the medicos had their share of grisly autopsy details about the victims.  Gabriela  shuddered.  She’d had to leave the mess hall to avoid hearing anything that could trigger her nightmares again.  Luckily the LOCCENT technicians had managed to pull the plug on the neural handshake with _Gipsy_ and shut down the Drift before it had come to that.  But it had been a close thing, and everyone in the Shatterdome knew it.  The Marshall had grounded the rookie team during the next Kaiju attack.  But then the Kaijus, two of them, Leatherback and Otachi, had destroyed _Crimson Typhoon_ and _Cherno Alpha_ and crippled _Striker Eureka_ with a directed EMP pulse.  The Marshall had had to activate _Gipsy_ and her pilots as a last resort.  _Gipsy Danger_ had not only killed both Kaiju, but saved _Striker Eureka_ and her crew.  Which meant that Operation Pitfall was still a go as soon as the maintenance teams could finish refitting and resupplying the last two remaining Jaegers.

Operation Pitfall was Stacker Pentecost’s top secret plan to take the battle to the Kaiju and drop a nuclear bomb into the Breach, sealing the access point that the aliens used to get from their world to ours.  And it was the worst kept secret in the Shatterdome.  Everyone knew about it.  But nobody talked about it, except in hushed whispers, when there was no one around to overhear. The Shatterdome personnel had taken the old WWII phrase “Loose lips sink ships.” to heart and made the effort to keep knowledge of Pitfall not only inside the Shatterdome, but restricted to PPDC personnel.  You didn’t talk about it with friends and family.  You tried not to talk about it with your coworkers.  But everyone knew.  And everyone watched the War Clock, wondering when Pentecost was going to kick off the operation.  They all knew it had to be soon.

Gabriela  had helped negotiate with the Russians to take possession of the thermonuclear warhead that was the payload for Operation Pitfall.  She recognized some of the names of the Russians she’d negotiated with from the Shatterdome personnel files, but she really didn’t want to know how legitimate members of the PPDC could have contacts deep within the Russian Mafia.  Or how those members of the Russian Mafia had managed to get their hands on a 2,400 pound Soviet-era nuke.   She just negotiated the transfer of possession and the legal transport of the device from Vladivostok to Hong Kong. She didn’t need to know how it got to the shuttered Russian Jaeger base in the first place, or whose hands it passed through to get there.

She was just rounding the corner into Officer Country, and still deep in thought, when Gabriela  ran into a young blonde man in the black body armor of a Jaeger pilot.  As they collided with each other, he put his hands out to steady her, “I’m sorry.” he muttered.  His voice was deeper than she thought it would be.  From a distance Raleigh Becket had looked impossibly young to be a Jaeger pilot.  But now that she was face-to-face with him she could see the beginning of crow’s feet and little lines around his mouth.  His face was tanned as if he’d spent a lot of time outdoors.  And there was a small scab on his cheek, and a cut on his lip, probably from the fight she’d heard he had with Chuck Hansen.  Or maybe it was from the recent battle with the Kaiju?

“Mr. Becket?” she put a hand on his arm to hold him back before he could start down the hall again.

He looked at her hand on his forearm, then back up at her.

“I just wanted to say ‘Thank You.’”

“For what?”  He looked puzzled.  She could tell he’d been thinking about something else.

“For saving _Striker Eureka_.  For buying us time.  For coming back.  Just…” she fumbled for the words to express everything she wanted to say to the Ranger, how much she admired him and all the Rangers for putting their lives on the line to defend people, how sorry she was for the loss of his brother, how glad she was that he’d returned to pilot _Gipsy Danger_ , when they had so few pilots and Jaegers left to defend them. 

Gabriela  had just graduated law school and was a first year at one of the big name law firms in Los Angeles when Yamarashi attacked the city.  She’d been late to work, she’d had a dentist appointment, and was still in the subway when the Kaiju rose out of the harbor at Long Beach, tearing the _RMS Queen Mary_ into pieces.  The battle between the Jaegers and the Kaiju had raged across the harbor and Terminal Island for hours, destroying buildings and bridges.  When they’d finally let people out of the subways, Gabriela  had emerged to a different world.  Entire neighborhoods were destroyed.  The high-rise with the beautiful view of the bay where her office had been was now a pile of rubble.  It took her days to confirm that all the senior partners were killed, along with all of her coworkers, every last one of them, crushed when the building collapsed on top of the basement Kaiju shelter.  Without a job, and traumatized by the attack, she’d gone to the PPDC recruiting office and enlisted. It was only later that she’d been able to watch the news coverage. And learned that it was the Becket brothers, in their first drop in the newly-launched _Gipsy Danger_ , who had defeated the Kaiju when a more experienced Jaeger team had failed to take down the beast.  Finally Gabriela  realized what she wanted to say wasn’t something she could express in a quick conversation in a hallway.  “Just… thank you.”

Raleigh nodded awkwardly, acknowledging what she couldn’t say.  “M’am,” And then he turned and strode down the hallway.  Gabriela  looked after him.  Would it be the last time she ever saw him?  At least she’d finally had the chance to say “Thank You” to one of the men who saved her home town.  At least she let him know that one person appreciated everything he’d done, everything the Rangers had done, to try to save humanity.  She felt a swell of emotion that grew until it threatened to overwhelm her.  Her throat tightened and she felt tears well up in her eyes.  No, now was not the time to think about the end of the world.  She ducked into a recessed doorway for a moment and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself.  She had a job to do.  The Marshall had summoned her.  She couldn’t afford to freak out now. 

After Yamarashi’s attack on Los Angeles, she’d had nightmares for months.  Luckily, in the early days of the PPDC, one of the Powers That Be had realized that the majority of their recruits had volunteered because they’d lost friends and family to the Kaiju.  Grief counseling and ongoing therapy were part of the required curriculum at Jaeger Academy, and nobody through twice about it if you continued seeing a counselor once you graduated.  They’d all been traumatized.  And everyone preferred to deal with coworkers who were doing their best to face their fears instead of pretending everything was fine when it clearly wasn’t.

She put her portfolio on the ground and put both hands flat against the door and closed her eyes.  She focused on her breathing, the way her therapist had taught her.   _Be in the now.  Focus on the job_.  She felt the chill of the metal against her palms.  _Breathe, just breathe_.  It took a few minutes to get her heart rate back under control, to calm her breathing to the point where she felt in control of her emotions again. 

“ _Gipsy Danger_ and _Striker Eureka_ on deck.”  The calm female tones of a LOCCENT technician repeated the announcement, “ _Gipsy Danger_ and _Striker Eureka_ report to your Jaegers. Launch in one hour.” 

Gabriela  straightened her uniform, picked up her portfolio, and knocked on the Marshall’s door.

A voice boomed from the other side of the door. “Enter.”  Gabriela  turned the iron wheel that opened the door and pushed it open.  The Marshall sat behind his desk, hunched over the keyboard, typing.  He looked up at her and as her eyes met his, she had the briefest glimpse of a man with the weight of the world in his shoulders.  Then he straightened his shoulders, and she was face to face with The Marshall that she knew and, truth be told, was a little bit scared of. “Yes?”

“Um, you called for Legal Counsel sir?”

“Yes, yes I did.”  He wiped a hand across his eyes.  “I’m sorry, it’s been a busy couple of days.”

“Yes sir.”

He waved a hand at two graceful bamboo chairs facing his desk, “Please, Ms. Santiago, take a seat.  I just need to finish this up.”  He turned back to the computer screen and resumed typing.

Gabriela  took a seat, and tried not to stare as she waited for the Marshall to finish what he was working on.  She was surprised that the Marshall knew her name.  She’d met him a couple of times, but only briefly.  But then again, scuttlebutt around the Shatterdome was that Marshall Stacker Pentecost made it a point to know the names and faces of every person under his command.  He no longer wore the uniform of the Pan Pacific Defense Corps, even if the blue shirt and tie looked like they were PPDC issue.  Instead he wore a double-breasted suit, cut from the exact same shade of blue wool as a PPDC dress uniform.  There were no rank pips on his collar, not that he needed them, it was clear that Pentecost was a man used to command. Santiago noticed the PPDC crest that he wore on his lapel.  They’d taken away his official status when they announced the shutdown of the Jaeger program, and yet the Marshall still wore something very like his old uniform.

Gabriela  glanced discreetly around the room while she waited. It was simple, almost bare.  The wall behind his desk bore the PPDC crest, cast in bronze. The desk was locally made, it looked like mahogany, or maybe dark stained bamboo.  There were only a few things on its surface, a stark contrast to Gabriela’s own perpetually paper strewn workspace.  A small leather bound notebook, what looked like a duty roster, and a small statue of a Jaeger.  Gabriela  thought it might be _Coyote Tango_ , but sometimes she got the Mark-1s mixed up, and she couldn’t remember which Jaeger the Marshall had piloted.   Pentecost typed a few more lines and saved his work. 

“You’re probably wondering why you’re here.”

“Yes sir.”

“I have two legal matters that I need to address today. First, I need to make a small change to my will.”  He pulled open the drawer in his desk and took out a thick manila envelope.  He stood up and handed her the envelope over the desk.

“If you’ll excuse me for a moment Ms. Santiago, while you’re reading?”

She looked up and nodded, and the Marshall disappeared into the other room.  She assumed it was his sleeping quarters.  Looking back down at the envelope in her hands, Gabriela  opened it. Inside were the thick sheets of a formal legal document.  She slid the papers out and unfolded it, scanning her eyes over the familiar archaic language that only lawyers used. It had been drawn up a couple of years previously, leaving the majority of his estate to his adopted daughter, Mako Mori, with a few small bequests to various friends.  She recognized several of the names, they were PPDC officers and for the most part, they were stationed here at the Hong Kong Shatterdome.

When she finally looked up from the document, Pentecost was back behind his desk, his hands folded in front of him.  Gabriela  noticed that there was a small presentation box, just like the one her last set of rank pins had come in, sitting on the blotter.

“When this document was drawn up, I assumed that I would predecease my daughter and that she would inherit my estate.  But now that she’s a Jaeger pilot, I have to consider the fact that she may predecease me.  Should that happen, I’d like my estate to be evenly distributed between the other individuals mentioned in second part of the will.  Unfortunately, two of them have died since this was drawn up.”  He plucked a sheaf of papers from the printer under the desk.  “I’ve drawn up a new will, using the same language, but with those names removed and a few other small changes.”  He laid the papers on the desk and pointed out the changes to her.  He’d been careful not to alter the language, and Gabriela  couldn’t see anything that would cause problems in probate court.

“So, is everything in order?”

“Yes sir.” Gabriela  was curious why she’d been called in to do this today.  Stacker Pentecost could have changed his will anytime he wanted to.  Why was this suddenly an urgent matter?  “But sir, you’re not going to die.”

“Unfortunately Ms. Santiago, death is a fact of life when you’re at war.”  He reached for a folder lying next to him on the desk.  “And now for the second thing.  I need to arrange for the orderly transfer of power in the Shatterdome in the event of my death.”

Gabriela  swallowed.  “Yes sir.”  The Marshall wasn’t dying. He couldn’t die.  They needed him too much. 

“I’m about to kick off Operation Pitfall.  But Ranger Hercules Hansen broke his collarbone in today’s Kaiju battle and cannot jockey.  The only other qualified Jaeger pilot presently available is me.”

Santiago gasped.

The Marshall frowned at her and Gabriela  quickly composed her face, focusing on what he was saying.  He nodded approval as she regained her composure.  “Yes, as you can see, this has some major implications for the Shatterdome.  But I’ve prepared for them.  Before I leave, I’m going to promote Hercules Hansen to Marshall,” he patted the small box.  “And in the event that I do not return from this mission, or am in any way incapacitated, he will assume command of both the Shatterdome and the Jaeger program.  We’ve been working closely together. He’ll know what to do.”  He pushed the paperwork that he’d printed out across the desk towards her.  “This all needs to be done properly, everything has to be by the books and perfectly legal.  I don’t want anyone to be able to oppose this.  If Operation Pitfall fails, it _has_ to be Hansen in charge of the Shatterdome. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”  Gabriela  took the papers and gave them her full attention.  She quickly skimmed through the pages.  It looked like he’d used the standard PPDC transfer of power paperwork.  Good.  And he’d dotted all the i’s and crossed all the t’s.  She gave them a second read through, looking for any problems or missing information.  Pentecost waited patiently, sitting silently at his desk, hands folded in front of him.  Calm.  Serene.  Finally Santiago looked up.  “This looks good sir.  Everything appears to be in order.”

“So this will be legal?”

“Yes sir.  As long as it’s signed in front of me, I can act as notary.”

“Do we need witnesses?”

“Technically no sir.  But in this situation, it probably wouldn’t hurt to have more than one person who knows your intentions for transfer of power in the Shatterdome.”

There was a knock on the door.

“Ms. Santiago, that would be Hercules Hansen.  If you’d get the door for him?”  Gabriela  scrambled to her feet and pulled open the heavy metal door.  Ranger Hercules Hansen stood in the doorway, casually dressed in what Santiago had come to privately refer to as his un-uniform. Since they’d all technically been RIF-ed from the PPDC, some of the Shatterdome staff had taken to wearing variations on their old uniforms.  Hansen was wearing a heather grey Henley shirt under a sleeveless khaki vest with a faded _Lucky Seven_ logo on the chest.  His right arm was strapped to his side in an olive drab sling, and there were two butterfly bandages across a cut on his forehead.

“Thank you.”  He said. His voice was rough, and Gabriela  wondered how much pain he was in. Hadn’t _Striker Eureka_ ’s pilots just gotten back to the Shatterdome?  Shouldn’t he still be in Medical?

“Sir.”  She nodded at him.  He looked tired.  No, he looked weary, as if he hadn’t slept for days.  There were dark circles under his eyes and he needed a shave.

Pentecost stood and came to greet him.

“Herc, how're you feeling?’

“Like hell.  Collarbone’s broken.  But the doc’s got me pumped full of painkillers, so I’ll do.”

“First things first, I’ve changed my will and I need you to witness it.”

“Can’t sign anything.”  Herc waved his good hand at the sling.

“Sir, I just need a thumb print for it to be legal.  Either hand will do.”  Gabriela  said.  She laid out the new copy of Pentecost’s will on the desk next to her tiny ink pad and all three of them thumbprinted the document.  Pentecost signed it, then Santiago signed it and embossed the document with her notary’s seal.  “I’ll file this when I get back to my office.”  She said as she carefully folded the document and slipped everything back into her portfolio.

“Good.” Pentecost picked up the folder on his desk.  The presentation box had disappeared.  “You two, walk with me.” 

Pentecost strode out of the office and down the hallway. He stopped at the restricted lift, the special express that led straight from Officer Country to the drive suit room at the top of the Shatterdome.  Jaeger pilots slept in Officer Country and needed to have direct access to their Jaegers.  The drive suit room was on the same floor as the access to the Conn-pods, 40 stories above Scramble Alley.  He punched in his access code, and the doors slid open.  Santiago watched the two officers get onto the lift, and when Pentecost looked at her, she followed him.  As the lift rose, she thought about how it made sense, the Marshall wanting to have a lawyer present to witness the transfer of power.  Her being there when the Marshall promoted Hansen and made him second in command of the Shatterdome would help ensure that if anyone questioned Pentecost’s decision, there was an impartial witness.

The lift doors opened, and Pentecost strode into the drive suit room.  Gabriela  expected to see the Rangers waiting for them, but there were only technicians.  They snapped to attention as soon as the Marshall entered the room.  Pentecost waved at them to relax.

Hercules Hansen followed Pentecost into the room. “Stacker, you know I can’t pilot.”  There was pain in Hansen’s voice.  Gabriela  thought he sounded like a man at the end of his rope.  She knew he’d trained for years for this, all the Rangers had. And he was one of their best Rangers, he and his son Chuck had racked up a record number of Kaiju kills.  Hell, he was one of their _last_ Rangers, and now he was injured and couldn’t complete their most important mission.  There was an ache in her chest as she thought about how that must feel.

“I know Herc.”  Pentecost’s voice was soft, soothing.  Gabriela  noticed that he put his hand on Hansen’s back, just the briefest of comforting touches allowed between soldiers.  “I’m going to do it for you.”  Before Hansen could recover from the shock of that revelation, Pentecost clapped his hands together to get the attention of the technicians in the room. 

“Listen up, I need you all to witness this.” He pulled the folder out from under his arm and placed it on a console, then turned back towards Hansen and reaching into his pocket, pulled out the presentation box.  He popped it open, revealing two Marshall pins inside. “I hereby promote Ranger Hercules Hansen to the rank of Marshall, second in command of the Hong Kong Shatterdome.  I’ve also put a commendation in your file for bravery under fire.  That move with the flare guns was brilliant Herc, it bought us the time we needed to get _Gipsy_ into the field. Well done. ” 

He gently patted Hansen on his good shoulder before shaking his hand, then placing the box in it and saying in a softer voice, “These were given to me by my commanding officer when I was promoted to Marshall.  Now I’m giving them to you. Wear them in good health my friend.” 

Hansen looked at the box in his hand for a long time, then back up at Pentecost, his eyes rimmed red with fatigue and pain.  He swallowed.

“Thank you sir.” He whispered.

Pentecost tapped the folder and nodded to Santiago.  She flipped open her portfolio and took out a pen and the ink pad. Pentecost signed the paperwork, and left a second thumbprint. Then he pointed to three of the drive suit technicians.   “You, you, and you,” he pointed to the three highest ranking techs in the room, “Witness the paperwork please.” He moved out of the way and handed the first tech the pen, before turning to address the rest of the room.

“Marshall Hansen is injured and cannot jockey a Jaeger.  But Operation Pitfall must go on.”  He slipped off his jacket and handed it to a technician and loosened his tie before crossing the room and punching a code into one of the storage lockers.  The doors slid open, revealing a battered set of black armor.  “I’m going to take his place as co-pilot of _Striker Eureka_.”  There were a few gasps in the room as he started unbuttoning his shirt.  He was wearing a circuitry suit underneath it.  Gabriela  realized he must have been putting it on in the other room while she was reading through his will. He handed his shirt and tie to a technician. 

“I have promoted Hercules Hansen to Marshall.  Upon my death or incapacity, Marshall Hansen is to assume command of the Shatterdome.  Counselor Santiago has the paperwork for transfer of command.  We have both signed the forms, and Counselor Santiago has witnessed and notarized our signatures. You are all witnesses to my intentions, should I not return.”  He paused, looking around, waiting for a reply.

 “Yes sir.”

“Good.”  Pentecost finished stripping off his clothes and two techs helped him step into his leg armor. Once they had the suspender belt around his waist, and he’d settled the weight comfortably, one of the technicians pulled up a chair.  Pentecost sat, and they fitted the heavy magnetic drive boots to his feet.  When his boots were fastened, Pentecost moved closer to the pilot staging area, within reach of the suspended hydraulic wrenches the techs used to secure the pilot’s body armor.  Two techs scrambled to pull the remaining pieces of his armor from the storage locker.  One clipped a gorget around his neck, while another tech strapped the abdominal armor around his waist and adjusted the fastenings.    Pentecost grunted as the tech pulled the straps tight.

“I may have put on a few pounds since I wore this last.”

“It still fits sir.” The tech assured him.

A tech held the backplate against his shoulders while another tech clipped the breastplate into position.  Gabriela  heard the magnetic seals lock.  The spinal relay was snapped into place, and then with a whir of power ratchets, the final bolts were tightened.  Two techs held out his gauntlets, and Pentecost pushed his hands into them. 

“Your helmet sir?”

Pentecost took it, then turned and asked the room, “Where’s Chuck?”

“No idea.”  Herc said.

“We haven’t seen him sir.  _Striker_ ’s drive suits were sent up from Medical, but they’re both still in the rack.”  One of the technicians said, waving towards the two khaki suits of body armor in their cases on the wall.

“Then we’d better go find him.”  The Marshall turned towards the door.

Hansen stood in front of him.  “Stacks, I didn’t ask for this.”

 “I know Herc.  And I’m sorry this has to fall to you.  But if we fail, I want you in charge.”

“You won’t fail.”

Stacker gripped his friend’s shoulder, “I appreciate your faith in me old friend.  But the fact is, there’s a chance we might not succeed.  And even if we do succeed, there’s a chance that I won’t make it back.”

“No.”

“I’m afraid so.”

Herc closed his eyes. “Radiation?”  He asked.  Gabriela  suddenly realized how many of the Mark-1 and Mark-2 Jaeger pilots had died of cancer.

“Yes. And Herc, it _has_ to be you in charge of the Shatterdome. You know all my plans.  I trust you to see that they get carried out. And to take care of my people.”

Herc nodded mutely. 

Gabriela  didn’t know what to do next, so she followed the two Marshalls.  Pentecost didn’t head for his Jaeger’s Conn-Pod, instead he took the elevator back down to the main level and turned towards Scramble Alley.  He punched in his access code and the giant blast doors slid open, revealing the whirl of activity that always presaged a Jaeger launch.  Pentecost’s daughter, Mako Mori was standing with her co-pilot Raleigh Becket.  They were both wearing their drive suits, and talking to J-Tech Chief Tendo Choi.  Chuck Hansen stood nearby, still in civilian clothes.

Mako gasped when she saw what the Marshall was wearing.

Pentecost smiled at her and patted his midsection, “Funny, I don’t remember it being so tight.”

Mako separated herself from the little group of officers and pulled the Marshall aside. But Gabriela  couldn’t hear what they were saying, because Chuck Hansen had stormed over to his father, and they were having a furious whispered argument. 

“What the _hell_ is this bullshit?  I can’t pilot _Striker_ alone.”  Chuck waved his arms back towards the Jaeger.

“You won’t be.  Pentecost is going to pilot with you.” Herc’s voice was so quiet that Gabriela  almost couldn’t hear it, even though she was standing right behind him.

“The old man’s off his rocker.  We can’t Drift together.”  Chuck was angry, Gabriela  wasn’t sure if it was at his father for being injured or the Marshall for taking his place.

“Yes you can.” Herc’s tone was sure, “I’ve Drifted with Stacks, back when we were test pilots. You’ll be fine.”

“No, I won’t. You’re my co-pilot. And I won’t jockey with anyone else.”  Gabriela  thought Chuck sounded like a spoiled child now.  She almost expected him to stamp his foot.

“Goddamit Chuck, you’re a Ranger.  Fucking act like one.  I raised you better than this.  Your superior officer gives you an order, you follow it.  Do you hear me? You follow orders.”  Herc glared at his son.  Chuck glared back for a moment, then lowered his eyes and slumped his shoulders, defeated.

Just then the Marshall called for attention.  “Everyone!”   His voice boomed through Scramble Alley and everyone turned to see what their commanding officer wanted. “Listen up!”  Conversation and activity stopped as people saw what he was wearing. 

Slowly Pentecost climbed up onto the edge of a giant piece of machinery.  Gabriela  thought it might be part of a Jaeger, but she couldn’t be sure.  Gabriela  thought the Marshall looked incredibly weary.  He stood for a moment, head down, back to the crowd, giving people a moment to draw closer, so everyone could hear him.  Gabriela  felt more and more people crowd in around her, but she held onto her position in the front ranks, close enough to not only hear him, but watch his face as he addressed the crowd.

He stood collecting his thoughts, then glanced over his shoulder to see if he had everyone’s attention.  Then he started speaking.  “ _Today, today… at the edge of our hope_ ,”

He turned to face the gathering crowd.  “ _At the end of our time_.

_We have chosen not only to believe in ourselves,_

_But in each other_.”

He waved his hand to indicate the workers gathered in front of him.

“ _Today there’s not a man nor woman in here that shall stand alone._

 _Not today_.”  He shook his head.

“ _Today_ ,” he raised his voice so that everyone could hear him, “ _we face the monsters that are at our door and bring the fight to them!_

 _Today, we are cancelling the apocalypse!_ ”

The crowd bust into cheers, everyone clapping.  Somehow when the Marshall said that we’d beat the Kaiju, it was hard not to believe him.    Pentecost stood still for a moment or two, making eye contact with various faces in the crowd.  He looked right at Gabriela , and she nodded to him.  Then he looked at the Rangers in the front row, and hopping down from his perch, he led them through the crowd.  People reached out to touch them as they passed, patting them on the shoulders, wishing them luck.

Gabriela  didn’t even try to stop the tears that streamed down her face as she watched their last remaining Jaeger pilots walk through the door and out of sight.

**Author's Note:**

> When Stacker Pentecost appears in the doorway to Scramble Alley wearing a Jaeger pilot’s battle armor, he’s accompanied by the injured Herc Hansen. I think we can assume that Pentecost knew he wasn’t coming back from Operation Pitfall. And I think he’s enough of a planner to have made arrangements for an orderly change of command. And I think we get evidence of this at the end of the movie, when Herc says over the loudspeaker, “This is Marshall Hercules Hansen. Stop the clock!” I don’t think Herc just gave himself a promotion to Marshall, I think that happened off screen. And that idea was the genesis of this story.


End file.
